


Together, We'll Rule

by MicheConnor



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MicheConnor/pseuds/MicheConnor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex has picked out his present, and wants to take him to a club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together, We'll Rule

**Author's Note:**

> DC and CW might say that they belong to them, but I believe that they belong to one another. The title is from an icon that  Duskwillow made. Many, many thanks to Averaird, who looked at this and made many helpful suggestions. It’s changed a bit since then, and any remaining errors are completely my own. I live for constructive criticism, feedback, savories and sweets! (My prompt was Club!Lex.)

“Clark.” The voice was hard, the tone implied that the judgement was final. “No. I can’t allow you to go with him, especially to something that’s so far away.”

“But dad. It’s just Metropolis–“ Clark frowned, looking rebellious and pleading at the same time.

“No. Too many things can happen. Too . . . many . . . things.”

“But, we’d call. I’d call every hour if you wanted me to! I know Lex wouldn't mind. Please dad. It’s his birthday. It’s . . . important.” Clark pulled out the big guns and turned huge, kicked-puppy eyes onto his father. “Dad. Please.”

Jonathan Kent closed his eyes in silent prayer for a long moment. “I want hourly calls.”

Clark grinned victoriously. “Yes, of course.”

“I want you to come back home tonight. And–”

Clark nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, and I’ll do all my chores before I leave, and my homework and chores tomorrow morning.”

“Fine then. Get everything done, and then you can go.”

“Yes!” Clark beamed at his father as he grabbed him in a one-armed hug before dashing off toward the barn and his chores. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket–the one that Lex had given him–and pressed speed-dial one. “Lex! I can go. Just give me an hour, and I’ll be ready. Oh, okay. So, I’ll see you in two hours then? You know, let me just come over when I get done here and we can just go from–Yeah. It’s not a problem. I can just hang out. Okay. I’ll see you soon.” His voice dropped just a bit, becoming a little breathy, a little deeper in tone. He disappeared into the barn, and the sound of chores and things being done incredibly fast could be heard.

Jonathan winced, and turned away. Some things were happening and it frustrated him no end that he could not control them.

Martha stood in the doorway and smiled at him weakly. “We can’t protect him forever, Jonathan,” she said quietly as she moved into the welcoming shelter of his arms.

“I just don’t want him to grow up this fast. Lex won’t mean to do it, but he’ll take Clark and just push him into being far more grown up–“

“I don’t know, Jonathan. Maybe.” Martha looked at her husband, turning his roughly chiselled face to hers. “Maybe not. Clark’s going to be limited in what he can do, you know. Especially if he has to call us every hour.”

Jonathan snorted in disbelief. “I was a young man, Martha. I know just how much trouble a young man can get into in an hour.”

“Really?” Martha smiled impishly, and looked up at her husband through her lashes. “Maybe . . . you can show me. Later?”

Jonathan blinked at his wife and laughed. Loudly.

~*~*~

Clark peeked into the library-like room that Lex used for his office, taking just a moment to look at his friend and admire him without the pressure of Lex looking back at him. He gleamed, Clark thought. His skin just looked smoother than the old cream-colored satin dress his mom had in the back of her closet. It glowed, too, particularly when Lex wore his colors–the colors that Clark associated with him–sage green, deep grape purple, rich violet, or pale lilac. Black made him look opalescent, and if he were honest with himself, he loved it when Lex wore black. He must have sighed a little too loudly, because Lex looked up suddenly and smiled at him.

“Clark.”

Clark enjoyed the way Lex said his name, as if was something to be savored each time he said it. “Hey Lex. Um, hope I am not disturbing you too much? I just poked my head in to see how you were doing, and you were busy, so . . .”

“Have a seat, Clark. I’m nearly done. Just some make-work my father dumped on me.”

Was it just him, or did Lex really take every opportunity to say his name, even if it was not necessary?

“Okay. No worries. Do what you have to do; I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.” Clark dropped into the leather chair next to Lex’s desk and just watched the older man work.

Lex looked up and grinned outright at that. “I won’t get in trouble, Clark. It’s just that being armed beforehand is preferable to leaving a gap in my defences.”

“I understand. If I had your dad for my dad . . . well, I think I would probably do the same thing, if not more.” Clark smiled shyly as he rested his head on his hand. Lex typing was a fascinating exercise in grace. “I am not so sure I’d make time for a seventeen-year-old kid who hangs around all the time.”

“You discount yourself too readily Clark. Besides. I like having you hang around. It gives me,” he paused, made a show of double-clicking his mouse, then closed his laptop, “the chance to act like a seventeen-year-old myself.” He grinned and stood up, his back popping loudly as muscles complained at being stretched suddenly. “Give me five minutes, and we can make like a tree and–“

“Get out of here?” Clark broke in with a grin. “Oh! I meant to ask. Is what I am wearing okay?” He stood up, a little awkwardly, displaying the black jeans and dark blue t-shirt.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry.” Lex dropped a hand on Clark’s shoulder briefly before he strode out, pulling off his tie while simultaneously removing his cufflinks.

Clark watched this with some awe. “You can pat your head and rub your tummy and sing the national anthem all at the same time, can’t you?”

Lex just laughed as he disappeared around the doorway.

Clark could hear him run up the stairs, and it was the smallest of internal debates to follow Lex’s little skeleton as it moved down the long hall and into a room on the second floor–cute little bones, delicately articulated–moved in a dance step, then two. Clark grinned.

“Guess he is happy I’m here,” he said to himself, turning away to move over to the huge globe of the world on the floor.

He spun it idly, waiting. True to his word, Lex was done and back down in five minutes.

“You’re wearing jeans!” Clark said with a laugh. “I didn’t think you had any.”

“Well, I had to get some, you know. I didn’t want to stand out around here. I even got a flannel shirt, though it’s not plaid.”

“Green?” Clark asked. “Or purple?”

“Both.” Lex grinned and tucked the back of the black silk button-down shirt into his pants. “Ready?”

“Yes. Let’s go! Oh, my dad wants me to call him every hour. I said that was okay.”

“It’s fine. You have that cell phone?”

Clark nodded, patting his front pocket to demonstrate where it was. “So. Ferrari? Or Maserati?”

Lex pursed his lips before making his pronouncement. “Aston Martin.” He turned, leading the way to the garage.

“Yes!” Clark grinned, showing every tooth in his mouth, it seemed. “I haven’t been in that one.”

“I think you’ll enjoy it,” Lex promised.

Clark was pretty sure he would, even if he had to sit with his knees in his mouth for three hours.

~*~*~

The building was once a church but had long since been converted to other uses. It was a place for dancing now, with strobing lights and brilliantly hued neon decorations in strange angular shapes that lit the corners of the nave and choir in sky blue and ruby red. The beat that pulsed out from the doorway was intoxicating in intensity. “Clark, are you sure you want to do this?” Lex asked his young friend softly. They sat in the car, simply watching the stream of people go in and out of the annex door. Some wore almost costumes, with sequins and feathers, and others wore jeans and T-shirts; the variety was almost intimidating in and of itself.

“I’m good Lex. I want to do this, it's just that-” Clark said after a moment. “I just–I’ve never danced before. Really. I mean, I’m just a big, dumb–“

“No. You’re big, but you’re not dumb. And you’ll learn fast enough how to do it. It’s not hard.” Lex opened his door, but made a point to lean into Clark’s personal space, and speak right into his ear. “Come on. Let me show you how good you can be.” His voice was whiskey and honey, pure temptation. Lex grinned at the flush that rose in his friend’s face.

“Only if you stay beside me.” Clark turned his head, and his lips were nearly touching Lex’s. “Please.” Self-doubt marred the perfection of his eyes, turning his pupils huge and his irises the color of lime.

“I’d never leave.” It was a promise, an almost-kiss of words across his lips. 

Clark breathed it in, absorbed it, and opened his door. 

~*~*~

It was too easy, almost, to get in. Clark could hear the muttered groans and epithets as he walked with Lex to the crowded doorway and stood just behind the slightly shorter bald man as they waited a moment for the men at the door to address them.

It’s clear Lex has no idea who these self-styled dictators, the doormen, are. It’s even more clear that they know who he is. Clark hides a snicker as they turn from assholes to sycophants almost instantly.

“Mr. Luthor. It’s been a while, but you’re always welcome. Let–Let me arrange things–“ The doorman stuttered briefly before he spoke into a small handheld device..

“It’s nice to see that my reputation hasn’t faded, but I wonder at the . . . hesitation . . . I’m seeing.” Lex looked expectantly at the door that was still closed before him. Clark could see the muscles in Lex’s neck bunch; he was getting annoyed. “It’s off-putting. And unless you’d rather I take myself and my companion elsewhere, and tell everyone that I am going elsewhere . . ..”

“Ah! I was just arranging for a table–Please. Enter.” The door opened before them and a wave of sound seemed to flee the building. The man nearly bowed them in.

“More like it,” Lex muttered, discretely passing a folded bill to the doorman. “Come on, Clark. I want to see you dance.”

“Uh, Lex!”

Lex hid a smile. Clark’s blushes were worth the effort it took to draw them out.

A tall man in a Zorro’s costume came up to them and gestured for the pair to follow. “Table,” he shouted. “This way!”

Clark hugged Lex’s backside as they followed the caped and masked man through the impressive crowd of people that packed the floor surrounding a slightly less crowded dance area. Strobing lights in primary blue and red and yellow confused his eyes, making what should be smooth movement a series of snapshots. “Pure freedom,” he thought eagerly as they wound through what seemed to be a wall of men just standing around smoking and watching what was happening and past groups of men and women in every conceivable combination as they writhed to the almost overpowering sound of music.

Lex stopped suddenly, and Clark nearly bounced into him. “Distracting, isn’t it?” He had to put his mouth almost in Clark’s ear to be heard, and he nearly grinned at friend’s surprised expression. “Clark? We’re at the table.”

Wide green eyes looked around hungrily, absorbing everything, and Lex frowned just a little. “Clark.” He made a point of licking his lips while they were nearly in Clark’s ear, deliberately tasting the sensitive shell. It worked. Attention regained. Instantly. “Table, Clark?”

“Huh? Oh! Um. Do we have to sit?” Clark turned just enough to that he could look at Lex, and bit his plump lower lip. “I want–I want to dance. And you have to show me.” Need opened his pupils, leaving a slender ring of green.

Lex could never resist Clark when he asked for something. Especially something that was not monetary. He reached for his best friend’s hand and tugged at him. Clark took a stiff little step forward “Then let’s go out there. You’ve got some moves to learn.” Big hand tightened on his own as he led the way back over the wide sticky place on the floor and pushed through the line of mostly men who are watching others dance.

~*~*~

The music was a throbbing beat that Clark could feel in his breastbone. A pulse that stirred his heart and his breath, ratcheting each a little higher with every song that played, even with the distraction of having to call his parents every hour, until his father finally told him that he was going to bed but expected him home by four a.m. for morning chores. He and Lex would have to leave in two hours to get home by that time, but it didn’t matter. Two hours of freedom, two blessed hours to watch Lex move about the floor in that purely graceful sinuous motion that called to him more strongly with every passing breath. Not that he could really admit it to himself yet. He knew he’d have to face that bit of internal honesty, but not at the moment. Just not right this second.

Colored lights flashed hypnotically, reflecting off of everything, but especially the dancing man who laughed unabashedly as he tried to teach his less than graceful pupil some kind of movement. “Clark,” Lex shouted, his mouth pressed to Clark’s ear. “Just relax. Feel the beat. Move. That’s all you need to do.”

Clark nodded, seriously trying to relax, but it was watching Lex that made him realize what he was doing wrong. Lex wasn’t worrying about how he looked. He was just moving, feeling the intense beat and somehow that was dancing. It looked so simple. Clark gave it a try, just moving, and tried to forget that there are any other people there. He was sure that no one was watching him but Lex anyhow, and maybe that worked a little. It was barely possible that his feet and arms actually moved with the music briefly.

He laughed when the people around him erupted in cheers. More people than he knew had been watching, but it was all okay. It was probably pretty clear that he was just learning and that he was a typical white-boy with no skill at dancing. His face flushed red, but he grinned and watched as Lex danced easily, laughing and moving for just a moment or two with everyone and anyone that approached him. Lex, dancing with that trademark fancy footwork and bounce in his knees, and those swivelling hips that twitched and rolled and should be outlawed.

It took more nerve to follow through on his thought than anything else he’d ever wanted to do in his life, but Clark moved toward Lex himself, pulling the older man closer to him, resting hands that suddenly feel too huge on Lex’s hips. Lex brightened immeasurably, draping his arms in return over Clark’s broad shoulders. They danced as one and Clark could not help but hope that Lex can feel how much this means to him, this closeness, this intense and yet public intimacy.

They moved together into one of the many dark spaces that littered the transept. “You’re getting it, Clark. You don’t need to do anything fancy. Look there–“ Lex’s lips were in his ear again, his breath both hot and tickling. ”Look at that woman, there. The one with her eyes closed. Just watch her a moment.”

The young woman in question was dancing, but it was clear she was dancing all by herself despite the woman pressed behind her and the man gyrating in front. Her eyes were closed, her breathing almost too slow for the rippling dance she was displaying.

“She’s not here, not completely. The music’s taken her away, and look how easily she dances. Would you want try that, Clark? It might make you feel more comfortable with yourself out here.”

Clark nodded, considered the idea for all of a second or three, and closed his eyes. His hands twitched almost convulsively about Lex’s hips as his visual context disappeared and his other senses increased their sensitivity to compensate. It’s dizzying. The music is almost so loud that it seems to fade into the background of other sounds: Lex’s breathing, his heartbeat, his scent. The feel of the his smooth, smooth skin beneath his calloused farmhand’s thumbs, where it peeps out in-between silk shirt and jeans.

“Just let go.” Lex’s voice was rough and deep as he pressed his upper body against Clark’s briefly. “Just let this be us,” he said as he stared at Clark’s throat, watching the heartbeat pulse there, and smiled as it quickened beneath the heat of his breath. “Feel how I move, and just do the same thing.”

Lex swayed his hips slowly, turned them just a little so he could grind into Clark’s hip and the heated brand that was his erection. “Now turn, Clark, and keep doing that. Just go in a circle, until I say to stop.” His tongue slowly slipped into Clark’s ear, teasing and sucking delicately as he spoke, his hands sliding from around the taller man’s neck and down his muscled chest to rest, fingers tucked, into the waistband of his jeans.

~*~*~

Time loses coherency and suddenly everything is now. The music seems to invade his brain and he thinks he understands what Lex says to lose himself in it. He does. It’s all about sensation, pleasure and motion. He gets that now.

Clark tenses slightly, holding his breath as Lex moves away, slipping from his fingers. He continues to undulate his hips, willing the fire that coils between them to stay subdued, because he does not want this moment to go bad. That resolution disappears almost immediately as Lex presses against him from behind and Clark can feel Lex, all of Lex, as he grinds into Clark’s jean-clad backside.

Hands, Lex’s hands, slide under his shirt and over his abdomen, dipping into his belly button for long slow moments while the music changes and becomes a little slower and more intense. They slip upward to tease against his taut nipples and make him arch almost uncontrollably into the wiry strength behind him. It’s almost too much and he opens his eyes in an intake of breath that's almost as much a rush as it was to hold. It’s a drug, this music. Or maybe Lex is the drug, because he can't resist, doesn't want to resist, being turned and feeling Lex's soft, scarred mouth dragging across his. Tongues twining and tasting, and lost to anything other than what is right here, and has been right here, before them both.  
   
Lex’s eyes are unfocused and his breath is uneven. His shirt has somehow been torn at the neck and Clark vaguely remembers pulling at it so that he could kiss the pulse that beat just below the collar. He looks rumpled, kissed, and mussed, and it is the headiest sensation to know that he was the one that caused this. .

Time speeds up once more.

~*~*~

“Lex,” Clark breathed, eyes intent and intensely focussed on his companion. “Let’s go.” And he takes the long-fingered hand into his own and tugs as he turns, not caring who or what is in his way, only that he–they–must get out of this place. He pulled Lex to his side as they approach the door and he pushes it open.

Lost to his surroundings, lost in his thoughts, Lex followed Clark outside, and the slam of the door and cool night air revived him a little. It’s not enough to make him even think of pulling his hand or his body from where it fits so snugly against Clark’s.

“Drive, Lex. Someplace–Someplace not far.” It’s a whispered kiss of sound in his ear, and it’s almost painful in its softness after the assault of noise that was the Club behind them. It must be late, however, because the doormen have gone, along with the lines of people that struggled to get inside earlier.

Their steps tangle, just once and it made them both laugh a little as they sorted themselves and resumed the trek through the asphalt parking lot..

“Car,” Lex directed quietly, pointing his key at it to disarm the anti-theft devices and unlock the doors. Clark pulled away from him to open the driver's door, and it pulled a sigh out of him. The loss of those big, incredibly warm hands and the cloak-like feel of arms about his shoulders just accentuated the chill in the night air. Lex sank into the leather seat and pulled the door closed slowly, or was it quickly? He couldn't tell. Clark was already beside him in the passenger's seat.

“Trust me, Clark?” Lex leaned over, pulled him close with a long-fingered hand that tangled in his hair so that their lips nearly touched.

"Yes, Lex, Always." Clark tried to put what he was feeling in those three words, and felt his face stretch into a smile as Lex's elegant long fingers trailed from his hair and over his face, and paused to press against his lips and smooth over them. Lex has always been fascinated with his lips, he knows this, but to see the other man's expression of intense concentration focussed right there for that small caress is intoxicating. It's a disappointment, almost crushing, when Lex pulls his hand away to turn to the steering column and the key there.

The car thrums to life and Clark has to close his eyes again and clench his hands to keep from touching, caressing or kissing Lex. He doesn't want to be–will not be–a cause for an accident.

~*~*~ 

There's no music in the car, and that's fine. Clark can remember the driving beat from the club, and it is easy to slip back into that brief span of time, to remember just feeling sensation and movement and pleasure: Hands not his own touching him almost greedily, a mouth and tongue to meet his own. Something pings at his subconscious, and he's back. Back in the leather seat that groans as he shifts and he's aware that they are slowing, turning. There, before them, is a hugely tall skyscraper, and the grin on Lex’s face is beautiful. “Clark?”

“Yes?” Clark blinked slowly. He was staring at Lex thoughtfully and chewing on his lip and not looking out the windshield at all.

“You’re the first to see it–the first person I have wanted to show it to, that is. My first step into real power and acquisition.” Lex sounded hyper, excited. Energized. This meant something.

“Lex?” Clark dragged his eyes from Lex’s mouth, and looked up, craning his head forward over the dash to see what ‘it’ was.

The car dipped as they pulled in behind the building and parked in a space labelled “President” and got out. “You bought a–building, Lex? Holy crap!” Clark shook his head and laughed, the intoxicating haze from the Club falling away for a moment.

“Yes, it is magnificent, isn’t it?. And my father’s gritting his teeth. LexCorp’s new building is fifteen stories taller than LuthorCorp’s. Let’s go in.” Lex is cocky, arrogant, full of fire and plans and Clark beams at him.

“Oh yeah! I have to see this triumph–I’d like to be taller than Lionel Luthor by fifteen stories, for a while. Maybe we can make spitwads and muck up his windows, too.” Clark had to laugh at Lex’s expression.

Lex blinked, looking faintly disgusted. “Spitwads? I haven’t done that since–Hah!” His expression turned Machiavellian. “Maybe we can actually make that work, though it’s more than a hundred yards away. We can get a bit closer in the penthouse at the top; there’s a significant balcony.”

“Of course. And I bet that this penthouse is bigger than your father’s penthouse?”

“Oh, naturally.”

They shared wicked smiles as they entered the building after Lex unlocked the door.

A very bored looking security officer was seated behind a u-shaped desk that had a phone and a monitor on it. “Mr. Luthor!” The monitor was flashing as it showed feeds from various cameras. 

“Evening, Roxy. I’m going to head up and show my friend my new place.”

“Of course sir. Let me beep you in.” The now very alert and quite eager security officer pressed a button on her desk and the gilded express elevator’s door slid open.

“You have two elevators, Lex?” Clark still looked a little dazed. The interior of the building was designed to overwhelm, and it did. Rich, vibrant red carpet contrasted with gold-shot black marble everywhere. “I mean, I thought this one here would open.“

“There’s actually six elevators, each spaced evenly around the building. This one’s for my personal use. It goes to the labs, my office and the penthouse. And the lobby of course. And it’s all so I can get up to where I want to go as fast as possible.” Lex removed his driving gloves and pressed his thumb to the lit pad in the elevator. “Penthouse,” he said, and the doors closed.

The floor seemed to heave upward as they rose into the air at a furious pace.

“Holy crap,” Clark laughed as he felt the pressure of gravity upon his frame more intensely. “That’s fast!”

“Has to be, with a hundred and eight floors.”

“Oh boy.” Clark blanched, his ruddy skin turning sickly pale. “That’s really far from the ground. Uh, you don’t have huge windows all over, do you? And what if some crazy person tried to crash-”

“There are windows, Clark, but none that you need to go near. And–this building is not a World Trade Center. I made sure that could never happen here, at least not in that way.”

“Are there cameras in here, Lex?” Clark asked nonchalantly. He’d edged over and was standing very close to Lex in the few seconds that the elevator doors had closed. “I mean–“

“Cameras? Yes. There are several.” Lex’s blue eyes glinted with amusement at Clark’s long sigh. “I have them in almost every room I know I will be in. Security, you know.”

“Oh. Um. So, what rooms do you not have cameras in?”

“That would be telling.”

Lex seemed to wink at the camera in the corner, and Clark laughed. "You are such a tease, you know?"

Lex lifted his brows and regarded Clark haughtily. "A tease? Why, I'll have you know-" And he swooped over to plant a big smooch right on Clark's cheek. "I never promise what I can't deliver."

It seemed like both forever and far too soon when the doors chimed and a smooth-sounding voice said, “Welcome home, Lex.”

“Who’s that?” Clark laughed and made a show of peering about the golden flecked marble entryway for the person who spoke. 

“It was the elevator, Clark.”

“Only you would give your elevator a sexy voice.”

“It makes it feel more welcoming. Besides, it’ll irritate my father.”

“Oh, you should make it talk more often then.”

“I am seriously considering it. Want a tour?”

“Yes!”

Lex dropped his gloves and keys into a metal bowl near the elevator that were for that precise purpose. He nodded as he spoke. “The kitchen is down that way–if you feel the need to grab something to eat. I thought you might be hungry. There’s a half-bath next to the study, and another near the game room down here. Bedrooms are upstairs, bathrooms are scattered about. Every bedroom has a bath; it’s just too irritating not to have it that way.”

“I'm not hungry; maybe later. And yeah, I can’t tell you how annoying it was when Lois and her sister stayed–“

“I remember. I also remember you used my showers more than once.”

“Well, they hogged all the hot water!”

“A very good reason to decamp. I will always have hot water for you to get into.” Lex grinned and winked.

“You are a good and dear friend, Lex. Have I told you that lately?” Clark grinned, his perennial flush creeping up his cheeks. Absently, he pulled his shirt out from his pants and flapped it.

“Yes, but you can say it more often. Still warm from dancing?” Lex asked almost gently, watching Clark fan himself and flash his golden skin.

“Yeah, it’s just–It feels stuffy.” 

“I have a pool on the roof.”

Clark halted in his steps. “Really? That would feel so good right now.”

Lex nodded and turned smartly on his heel “Let’s go.”

~*~*~ 

It wasn’t that hard to get Clark to skinny dip; there was no way, literally, for anyone to spy on them. The pool was Olympic sized, and set down into almost a well. Steps led out directly from what Lex said was his bedroom, though there was really nothing in it yet, except a really huge bed. There was screening over the pool as well. And, there were no cameras pointed directly at the pool itself.

“It’s more for protecting my skin from the sun than from peeping toms, but the stuff is very opaque.”

“Well, as long as no one can see in. I just don’t want anyone–I know it’s weird, but in the club no one could see or cared, but it’s all different here.“

“I understand, Clark. Here, you get undressed and I’ll get the towels.”

Clark paused only briefly as he kicked his shoes off. Pants, shirt, under things–all fell to the floor in a heap.

Lex peeked over his shoulder and smiled at the magnificent display of muscle and golden tanned skin. Clark was a god, even paled from the dim night lights and moon. He pulled a stack of folded cloth out of the cupboard and turned to head back to the pool.

All too quickly, Clark took three small steps and jumped into the water with a huge messy cannonball that soaked Lex and the towels he carried.

“Oh, that means war!” Lex roared, pulling his clothes off carelessly. The towels were dropped into a puddle of water, and the billionaire’s clothes soon followed. “I warn you, Clark. I excelled at water fights at Excelsior.”

Clark laughed at the threat, the water carrying the happy sound over to Lex as he jumped into the pool himself. “Well, I am pretty good at–HEY!” Clark’s surprised bellow echoed, turning again into laughter. “Lex, that’s cheating.”

“Of course it is, Clark. I am a Luthor, after all.” Lex’s voice turned into honey and whiskey as he spoke from just behind the younger man.

Clark turned quickly, pulling Lex into a tight hug. “You might be a Luthor. But you’re not–you’ll never be your father,” he said emphatically, his pale green eyes glowing. “I know you meant that to be funny, but it’s not, Lex. I won’t let you become him. Won’t.”

Lex nodded slowly, his smile gentling from the manic grin that stretched his mouth a moment before, as he relaxed into Clark’s grasp and leaned in closer as if for a kiss, looking at him, waiting for a signal to continue or another to stop. Clark was right; it did feel different out of the club, but that didn’t mean it felt wrong.

Clark’s breath caught in his throat, for Lex’s breath on his face, on his lips, was tantalizing. Lex leaned in just a little more so that when he licked his lips, he also licked Clark’s lips in a delicate caress that could, technically, be laughed off, brushed away.

“Are you sure?” Lex asked.

"Yes." Hands that Clark thought were too big, too clumsy, seemed just right as they stroked gleaming skin. His fingers tightened reflexively about Lex’s hips before moving upward, sliding until they rested comfortably about his neck. Clark’s big thumbs traced scarred lips for just a breath. It was another heartbeat of time that seemed separate from all other moments in time as Clark made that last movement and leant in, kissing Lex possessively - licking his lips, his face as if trying to devour him. “Mine.”

“Yes,” Lex’s reply was a growl as he moved his hands to tangle in Clark’s curls, a sinuous movement that’s echoed in a press and rub of erect manhood against erect manhood. “Yours. God.”

Glorious sensation flowed like the almost too cool water that was between and around them. Each caress was repeated, accepted and reciprocated. It seemed like it should last forever but was over far too soon with Lex shuddering first into Clark’s shoulder, and Clark following soon after. Both simply floated; content to be next to one another, until a faint beeping could be heard.

“You set an alarm?” Clark growled, but his words were plaintive. “I don’t want to go.”

“Have to.” Lex’s eyes were dark as lapis and seemed infinite in the glow of the underwater lights.

“I know.”

Lex slipped closer, draping an arm over Clark’s broad shoulders. He dropped slow, biting kisses along a golden collarbone, tracing the line of the young Adonis’s neck with gentle nips that end in tracing perfect lips with his tongue and dipping into the well of his lover’s mouth tenderly. “Sooner we go, sooner we can see one another tomorrow.”

Clark sighed, and nodded, stepping away just a bit.

“Lex?” He asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Yes, Clark?”

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you, Clark. I couldn’t have had a better time.” Lex looked lasciviously at Clark as he left the pool, and water streamed from his body. He flexed his left gluteus maximus, and grinned. “Really.”

“No, thank you.” Clark made a real show of getting into his clothes, flexing and bending just to hear Lex sigh-because if he was going to have to be uncomfortable, well, fair was fair. “You did teach me how to dance. And you’re the only person I know that would think taking someone else out was a present.”

“Clark.” Lex made his name sound like a caress as left the water slowly, and it was the younger man’s turn to have his breath catch. Lex in the reflected light of the moon and pool was glory in and of itself: all lean lines and muscle, a greyhound in human form accented with the rosy rising length of his tumescent cock. “Being with you, sharing myself, my life with you–that is gift enough.”

“Lex–“ Clark looked earnest. “Lex, you have to know–I have to tell you-“

“No, Clark. You may not demur.” Lex made his fumbling attempts at being sexy while getting dressed look amateurish. Clark flushed, looking away, and Lex strode the two steps closer to him, wet clothes sticking to his elegant limbs. “Clark. Believe me.”

“I–I will.” Clark looked at Lex, letting his devotion, his love shine forth in his eyes. “I do. I just have to remember how you do things. Like, Dancing.”

Lex nodded, just once, and pressed his cool fingers to Clark’s heated lips. “I have so much to teach you. So much I want to share with you. Let’s go back home, because I can’t wait to get started.”

Clark grinned, kissed those long fingers gently before twining them about his own. He hummed a dramatic bit of music and looked at Lex expectantly.

"Clark." Lex glared at him. "I am NOT going to sing it."

"Please?"

"No." Lex's mouth was a thin line, lips pressed together to ostensibly brace his resolve in the face of overwhelming onslaught. Clark knew he was going to win when he caught sight of the little curls of smile that hid at the edges of Lex's mouth. He pressed onward.

"Pretty please, with sugar and candy on top?" Clark lifted his brows upward, and allowed his mouth to tremble in the patented puppy manoeuvre he perfected before age five.

Lex sighed, and caved in. "You are so spoiled."

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter. C'mon!" Clark bounced, and hummed the dramatic refrain over again as they walked through the bedroom, down the hall and stairs and stood before the elevator. "Okay, fine. No London after Midnight, then. What about. . Oh! I know." The elevator dinged. All the way down to the garage he belted out the lyrics to an old, old song. 

Lex cracked up laughing when he heard it,  but by the third time Clark sang that first refrain, he joined in. When they reached the lobby floor, they were both singing it, and Roxy, the night security gal, laughed as the duo sauntered outside with their arms draped over one another.

“Here we come,  
Walking down the street,  
We get the funniest looks from  
Everyone we meet!

Hey, hey we’re the Monkees,  
And people say we monkey around,  
But we’re too busy singing,  
to put anybody down.

We’re just trying to be friendly,  
Come and watch us sing and play,  
We’re the young generation,  
And we’ve got something to say.”


End file.
